


Drowning the Jack

by theparadoxicalfox, TrulyMightyPotato



Series: Royal Flush [38]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: A Singular Knife, Alcohol, Attempted Murder, Discussions of Organized Crime, Drowning, Stabbing, near-drowning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:20:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27676630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theparadoxicalfox/pseuds/theparadoxicalfox, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrulyMightyPotato/pseuds/TrulyMightyPotato
Summary: New Year's Eve, 1910: a much younger PJ and Wiggles have a conversation on the river pier. PJ makes a promise, Wald seals his fate, and Wiggles is left with not many choices at all.
Series: Royal Flush [38]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/699969
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11





	Drowning the Jack

_ Saturday, December 31, 1910 _

The night sky was perfect for the holiday, PJ decided as he sat on the river pier, staring up at space. The moon was new, as if aware that in just under an hour they’d be in a new year and had dressed appropriately, and they were far enough from the houses of the city that the night sky was easily visible, and the stars, the  _ stars  _ were twinkling in a magnificent display of wonder and amazement.

What was it like, out where the stars were? Just how far away were they? Would humanity ever find out, or would it always remain a mystery? Would they ever visit the moon or any of the other seven planets?

How desperately he wanted to find out.

Footsteps tickled the edge of his hearing, but it was hard to make out whose they were over the noise of the party on the shore. He glanced over his shoulder and relaxed as he recognized the silhouette of the person approaching. He offered a smile as Wiggles came close enough for PJ to make out his face.

_ “Hey, kid, what’re you doing way out here?” _ Wiggles asked in Italian, dropping down to sit next to PJ on the pier, never mind that he was wearing a fancy suit for the New Year’s Eve celebrations and holding a wine glass in hand.  _ “It’s a bit far from everyone else. _ ”

_ “It’s okay,” _ PJ said, looking back up at the sky.  _ “I was just thinking.” _

_ “Oh? What about?” _ Wiggles took a sip of his absolutely alcoholic drink, eyebrow raised curiously.

_ “I dunno. The future, I guess.” _ He looked over at the young man.  _ “That’s what we’re supposed to do tonight, I mean, so-” _ He cut himself off, realizing just how ridiculous he was going to sound.

Wiggles gestured for him to continue.

_ “It’s just,” _ PJ looked back at the stars and took a deep breath before plunging ahead,  _ “there’s so much we don’t know. So much out there. What if there’s more planets we don’t know about? What if there’s more suns and earths and more life out there? How far does it all go? Will we ever find out? The steps we’d have to take to get there, it’s... it’s so much, it makes my head hurt just thinking about it, but... if we can get out there, it means everyone has to have worked together, right? We can’t have any more fighting, or be forced to live with a bunch of people in the same house-” _ He cut himself off guiltily, glancing at Wiggles to see if he was upset by that, seeing as Wiggles lived with his family and helped around the house and watched PJ and helped with the ridiculous rent the landlord kept raising on them.

_ “I’m pretty sure wanting your own room is a perfectly normal thing,”  _ Wiggles said simply, his own gaze on the stars.  _ “That’s quite the dream you have, though. A world of cooperation, without fighting... well, there’d be no need for the Family, now would there?” _

PJ shrugged, turning his gaze back to the sky, and would remember his next words for the rest of his life. 

_ “Do you ever think about leaving?” _

Wiggles looked over sharply, but PJ didn’t see it. After a long moment, Wiggles set his wine glass down on the pier with a soft clink and leaned back on his hands, staring up quietly.

_ “I don’t know what I’d do if I left,”  _ Wiggles said quietly.  _ “Not that leaving is really all that easy. I need you to understand that. If you ever want the chance to leave, you can’t get involved in the first place. The Family requires your all. Very few leave peacefully. Most of us will leave when we’re dead.” _

PJ frowned.  _ “You seem happy enough.” _

_ “Life... is complicated. The Family gave me a job, a place to belong when I didn’t belong anywhere, kept me out of prison when I took an interest in explosives.”  _ Wiggles murmured thoughtfully.  _ “I could never repay what’s been done for me.”  _ He hesitated.  _ “And yet...” _

_ “You want something more, don’t you. Just like me.” _

Wiggles shrugged slightly.  _ “I... actually don’t know. I just know... there’s more to life than this.” _

PJ leaned back himself, letting his head hang over his shoulder to examine the 20-year-old next to him. He didn’t know much about being an adult, he was barely 14, but Wiggles felt like an older brother to him—even if he’d never admit it out loud.

_ “Maybe you should do like Zombie and get a girlfriend,”  _ he suggested.  _ “That made him pretty happy.” _

Wiggles snorted, reaching for his wine glass.  _ “Maybe.”  _ He took a sip.  _ “Just between you and me, though, there’s more to life than pretty girls.” _

_ “Like kissing?” _

Wiggles giggled, clearly caught by surprise.  _ “Kissing’s nice, of course, but, no. That’s not what I meant.”  _ He set his glass down again.  _ “There’s learning, and knowledge. Knowing how to read, and do numbers. Choosing a way in life led by what you want rather than what you need, and the comfort and confidence that comes from that. Close friendships, friendships so close you’d rather cut off one of your own limbs than end them, where if something happens to them you hurt so much that you have no choice but to recognize that this is what it means to be alive,  _ **_truly_ ** _ alive... That’s what life is. And I don’t know if I can find that in the Family.” _

PJ looked out over the water, at the reflection of city lights and stars dancing across the surface, at the dim glint of the ice chunks floating down the river from where they broke off the banks, and thought about that for a minute.

_ “Maybe you should leave, then, if you’d be happier like that.” _

_ “The godfather wouldn’t let me. It’s too much of a risk for the Family.” _

PJ hummed slightly. He could understand that, he supposed, but it seemed ridiculous.  _ “One day I’ll be godfather,”  _ he promised,  _ “and I’ll let you leave.” _

Wiggles laughed softly, then reached over and ruffled PJ’s hair like he had so many times before.  _ “Yeah, sure. I’m older than you are. I’ll be godfather first.” _

PJ looked at him with a grin and wide, excited eyes, curls tumbling over his eyes.  _ “Then you can pretend to die or something and I’ll take over. Then we both get what we want.” _

Wiggles laughed again.  _ “Sure, kid.” _

A long pause, where Wiggles took more than a few sips of his drink.

_ “You are very excited about the idea of me faking my death,”  _ Wiggles said, clearly amused, as he set his glass down again.

_ “I want to do well in life.”  _ PJ argued.  _ “That means I need to become the godfather.” _

_ “A good life doesn’t mean being the most powerful,”  _ Wiggles countered.

_ “It sure helps.” _

Wiggles acknowledged the point with a raised eyebrow and a gentle nod.

Small footsteps ran up behind them, and they both turned to see one of the other young boys involved with the Family. Wald. PJ hadn’t been expecting to see him at the party—Wald’s mother didn’t usually get invited to things, and nobody knew who Wald’s father was, so Wald must have come with his uncle—but it was always a pleasant surprise to have someone around young enough to let him be in charge.

“Wiggles!” Wald exclaimed, hands holding a box tightly to his chest. “You’re back!”

“I was only gone for a week.” Wiggles laughed, turning to face Wald. “It’s not that long.”

“Not to  _ you,”  _ Wald countered. “You said you’d take me with you when you went places!”

“Not on Family business.” Wiggles shook his head. “You’re still too young for that. Your mother would kill me.”

“I’m old enough!”

“You’re nine.” Wiggles reached over and bumped Wald gently. “You know you have to be older.”

“I didn’t even get to go,” PJ said seriously, “and I’m five years older than you.”

Wald scowled. “Well, that’s just stupid.” He shook his head. “How long have you been back?”

“Just got back yesterday.” Wiggles leaned back against the pillar a bit unsteadily, and PJ absently wondered just how much Wiggles had had to drink. (Most of the adults had a lot, and he himself would probably have a little bit later, just to try some and see what the fuss was about, but it seemed a little early to be so unsteady.)

Maybe he just didn’t drink much. PJ could understand that.

“I wanted to show you my Christmas present,” Wald said, lowering the box in his arms some. “My uncle gave it to me.” He looked between Wiggles and PJ. “Do you wanna stand up so you can see it better?”

PJ complied, mostly out of curiosity. So did Wiggles, though it took him a moment longer, and he was once again slightly unsteady on his feet.

Wald pulled a knife out of the box, holding it up proudly. The blade glinted with a promise of a sharp blade, and the handle seemed nice and sturdy.

“Woah!” PJ said, stepping closer to take a look. “He gave you a knife? That’s awfully neat. I’m not allowed one until the end of the year.”

“That’s rough,” Wald said sympathetically. Then he brightened. “Wiggles, you wanna see my knife?”

“Sure, kid,” Wiggles said easily, halfway sitting on the pier post. “Let’s see it.”

Wald held it out for the young man to inspect it, a broad grin shining on his face.

“It’s a very nice knife,” Wiggles said solemnly. “Make sure you take care of it.”

Wald nodded enthusiastically, holding the knife to his side carefully. Then he hesitated, his gaze flicking between PJ and Wiggles. “How long have you been out here? What’ve you been talking about?”

“Not long,” PJ assured. “Fifteen minutes or so.” He nodded at the sky. “I was just watching the stars until the fireworks started, and Wiggles came to check on me.”

Something flicked across Wald’s face, something that years later would have PJ waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. But PJ didn’t recognize what it meant yet, only that something was wrong.

“You didn’t come find me,” Wald protested, turning to Wiggles. “I’ve been here for an hour.”

“I’m sorry, I had to talk to a bunch of the adults, and Mr. Liguori asked me to check on him. I would have brought you with me if I’d known you were here.”

Something about the way Wiggles was talking suggested he  _ did _ recognize that flicker of emotion across Wald’s face, and he didn’t like it.

“That’s not fair.” Wald scowled. “You’re supposed to play with both of us!”

“We weren’t playing.” PJ frowned. “We were talking about kissing girls.”

Wald scrunched up his face. “What if I wanted to talk about that too?”

“I’m sorry. You can join us if you’d like.”

Wald shook his head, then drew to the edge of the pier with them both, still frowning. “This is stupid. Why would you want to watch this instead of being with me?”

“It’s quiet.”

Wald scoffed and turned to Wiggles. “I don’t want to be out here. I want a piggy back ride back to the party.”

Wiggles narrowed his eyes slightly, but nodded, standing and setting his glass where he’d been sitting.

PJ missed Wiggles’ glance at Wald’s knife, clutched tightly in a fist. Too tightly. He missed the way Wald still had it held tightly as Wiggles turned to allow Wald to jump up onto his back.

He didn’t miss it when Wald wrapped one arm around Wiggles’ neck and used the other hand to jab the knife into his chest, dragging it up towards Wiggles’ throat. He didn’t miss the way Wiggles staggered, foot landing where there was no pier, dropping into the icy Charles as Wald jumped back onto the safety of the dock. He didn’t miss Wiggles’ cry of pain or Wald’s cackle of triumph. He didn’t miss the way Wiggles broke the surface, the water around him rapidly darkening, gasping heavily for air.

“Wiggles!”

He rushed forward, intending to reach an arm out to Wiggles and pull him back to the pier, but his foot stumbled over something, something far too soft to be the planks the pier was made of, and pitched forward into the river himself.

The world was cold, cold crushing down on him, cold flooding his lungs and soaking his clothes and his heavy coat and his hair and dragging him down into the depths of the river, cold turning him head over heels and becoming up and down and left and right all at once, cold sinking into his bones and into his soul despite the painful burning in his lungs-

He managed to surface, and somehow that was even colder. His scream for help was torn from his lungs, only to be replaced by water upset by his desperate thrashing.

He couldn’t swim.

His now-soaked coat dragged him down under the surface. And down, down, down away from the surface, away from the air so vital to life, away from the distorted reflections of light filtering through the water, distortions that were fading with his vision and the agony in his chest-

A silhouette blocked the lights-

The world was darkness and water rushing past his skin, then the frightful cold of air-

An indistinct shout- Wiggles-

His chest pressed against a hard surface, steady hands holding him, water burning his nose and throat and lungs as he coughed it up-

The world came back slowly, drifting in and out of awareness. Voices were gathered close, murmuring things he couldn’t entirely make out.  _ “...swallowed...” “...too cold...” “...knife... blood...” “...Wiggles... didn’t surface again...” “...drowned...” “...no body...” “...hypothermia...” _

♣♥♠♦

PJ’s entire body hurt. His lungs and stomach felt weird. He was warm, though, and dry.

Wiggles-

His eyes snapped open and he sat up, frantically searching for any sign of the young man. His eyes scoured the bedroom the two of them shared, but there was nothing. The other bed still had Wiggles’ regular suit thrown on it from earlier, when he’d dressed for the party.

Nausea slammed into him and he choked, one hand to his stomach as it rebelled. He coughed and gagged, and before he could consciously will himself to not, he vomited.

Footsteps came running, and a glass set down on the bedside table between his and Wiggles’ bed before a hand slid over his forehead and pulled his hair away from his face and his father began to murmur comfort to him.

It was only after his bed had been stripped of the now-dirty bedding and he was half-carried to the bathroom and deposited in the shower that his father mentioned something about calling a doctor in again and left the room so he could rinse himself off.

Feeling clean was nice enough, he supposed, but when he felt like vomiting again with every shaky, aching breath, it wasn’t really all that high on his list of priorities.

Still, when he was done, his bed had been remade with clean bedding, and he was helped back under the covers. This time, though, a large bowl was set next on the bedside table. He was handed a glass of water and told to drink it slowly.

And then he was alone until a doctor came.

“You’re a very lucky young man, you know,” the doctor said as he finished the examination. “If people hadn’t been right there to pull you out after you fell in the river, I don’t think you’d be alive right now.”

“I-” PJ swallowed against the rising nausea. “I didn’t fall. I was tripped.”

His father, leaning against the far wall, raised his head, alarm running across his features.

“An accident is an accident,” the doctor said simply, packing his bag. “Make sure you drink a lot of water and get plenty of rest. You swallowed a lot of river water, and that seems to be what’s causing your stomach ache. It should pass in a few days. The same with your lungs aching. You almost drowned. They’ll hurt less over the next few days.” He stood and turned to PJ’s father. “If he gets sicker, or develops a fever, then give me another call, but otherwise he should be fine.”

The doctor left the room after that, and PJ’s father stood from the wall.

“Wald tripped me into the river,” PJ said quietly. “And he stabbed Wiggles. He tried to kill both of us. He… I don’t know why, Dad. He never gave a reason  _ why. _ ” He looked at the other bed, then back at his father. “Wiggles died, didn’t he. He  _ died _ saving me.”

PJ’s father leaned over and ruffled his hair, just how Wiggles had done the night before. “We’ll keep looking for him,” he said softly. “He was Family after all.”


End file.
